Anne Gorrick

 

 

The August Garden

Even	A Japanese maple assembled from pennies
	Three summers of hydrangeatotal: tit-high brown
	heart splittingly
my	In wind, hot light and gold
	sunk into the green of August
	Even my conscience gardens
conscience	The back deck is a ship filled with pink germanium
	the pink of a sugar refinery
	White alyssum rubs against an intelligent blue
gardens	A germination factory!

The small garden has shifted from the I
to that of the entire world
Hydrangeas tit-high: pink brown and blue
When color is a verb
Not much the flowers
in addition the heart is wonderful splittingly

Azaleas are small in accumulation
The azalea spring is a type of factory
The center splendid splittingly

Fact:	Hours are amended and clear
	August's gold sunk inside green
it will	Fact: it will come out and snap off by winter
	The garden dozes beside its reputation
come	Shepherd's Purse floats over deep-red, top dark
	Colors freeze to death in the christophii allium
out	Gorgeous with hazard

We open up the hours
Cyan, the salvia, ascension
Deep red and high that it is dark
A confidential room open for suggestions
The end of apprehend
Gorgeous with intelligence and danger

Check against the authoritative text
and you will find the hour has opened
the gold sunk into an internal green
Facts are exterior, gasps

are	Controls put in place against
	the founded text, the open hour
descended	In August, the wind and the gold
	are descended from all forms of green
from all	Blue-dark, fresh white
	Green noises rearrange into dark red by night
forms	The Japanese maple: an attempt at possibility
	and its factory of subordinate components
of	Compare the tree to the idea that germinates it
green	It's green intelligence is splittingly dangerous

 

 

 

 

Waterfall

for PRG

An	Trash fish, coelacanth
underwater him	His leg, his foot rubs her thigh
	Rumor as opposed to an intact sea
too close to	The proto-mainland forms between the line she washes
	and the tarnished him
	Under this photograph his expression builds
her mouth	according to the flats in her shoulder

Upside the arm, the forearm
the blood acceleration in the hand
She pulls down the soap as if she were gravity enacted
They wash the monarchy of their faces
feed each other: pear, clove, ceviche
The cold shrimp: she kneels down in their shells

He is an the expression underneath this photograph, building
The coal ash drains from his legs
The willow roots braid
leave him in kneeling against her dirt floors
He said, "Earth's tendencies are the not the same
in Finger Lakes, in Champagne,"

A word reduced to small gasps, consonants
His whisper entered into this hole
He washes atrocity off her in language
Lalique inside touches Japan
She the root braid washed up on a cave floor
a willow root spun in water

Poisson	A lapis foot against her thigh
	When rumor opposes an intact sea
sans valor	She washes the dull spots of him under photography
	According to their apartment, the shoulder…
	The willow factory of refusal goes down
	The ground has no tendencies, even in Champagne
	A word reduced to small consonants
kneelings	it's whispered atrocity washed in language
	Willow in water, the green and white towel deeply

 

Grammar rubs against her legs
The blunt discipline in photography
which manufactures expression
Without counting the days, traces of A
According to the dwelling in the shoulder
upward goes an arranged arm
the front arm levers
acceleration of the hand, blood in reach and traction

Downward to their knees
into their hearts' shells, into water
the lower surfaces opening in a tray of chemicals
This volatile view of the arm
The consonant whisperings reduced
Lalique’s interiors in contact with Japan

Cloth	Only under the surface of day
	does photography linger
	There are no exteriors
an	namely a carnation, namely the ceviche
	namely in the cool shrimp
	The word small, a bouquet of consonants
inveterate	cruelty whispered which decreases her openings
green	You wash the That before the This of language

The proto-line
forms a continent washed in an ocean's rumors
Alimony, gravity, secretary, monarchy
The tendency to cavern champagne in the earth
You wash out language from this one rather than that one
Cloth an inveterate green

Depend on Lalique, its laundered grass

The infantry will attempt to value a coelacanth
the scandal in soap, ceviche
A détente between the photograph and smallness
Inside the sea is the opposite of sound
The ideography of A=Arm
manufactured in vein and stem
A huge word peeled
Lalique and oysters in that root
Laundering silence into contract

Her	There is an excessive photography to him
	The continent is washed, seines marked in affection to create
permissions	That ideography of the Arm = A
	The traction found in alcohol
are	He who washes an end within ordering
	The internal crustaceans conclude water
inferior	He smiles at the automation of activity
	More of the letter "L" in him than in the earth

 

The tendency of humanity toward justice, ostra
Two seconds of kneelings in favor
His diminished consonants are cruel
The swimming pool, only: he
The lava out of which language came
The swimming pool launders pieces of sky
in silence and contact
Clothes targeted green, inveterately

The seines draw up love
in a quantity of small words, small as skin

The	The OA = Other is breakage
	Here the photography is not excessive in him
battery	When the ocean is the opposite of sound
	The continents are washed by seines marked with affection
that is	He washes his endgame with order
	Food on the surface of a rare book
monoarchy	The tendency of humanity to throw aside justice
	is profile of his temporary infantry

 

Extensive words are small rinds on the page
His consonants diminish
Words are laundered in the swimming pool
on the left side of the planet
under silence and contract
The amount of water on his clothes
a green target, inveterately

The pool	The excessive ahhhhh of smallness
	He who washes his edges among orders
launders	You gather, you put
	He has permission to be inferior
him	The quantity of language: it does, is cruel
	when the weather is small out like skin
in	the doubt inside his silence
sections	The reduction of language through gravity

 

 

 

Has the music ensilked a woman in the audience?

 

after a fragment of a Chinese silk painting (possibly depicting Mi Heng beating a drum) attributed to Ts’ung Lun (date unknown)

A carefully manufactured musical retort
Protection as the opposite of art
The fragment absenting
Seven courtesies in elephant eye silk, obese in his excellence
The brown He torn in scraps of fabric
The greater entirety of the fragment
The absence of the woman, missed music, the fragment absenting
Life patterned in anonymity

Dressed in seven courteous layers external to time
obese in his protruding achievement
He laughs cleanly at the public's silk
at absence, at a piece of a woman absenting false music

An unspoken territory

Evenings previous and subtle
His outstanding achievement is rolled up in good clothing
in a large tide of smiling artists beyond the scroll
A brown silk pulled out of entirety
an oath the color of iron, extreme and torn
That the scene continues is music enough
but delicacy is imperfect
unable to connect day to evening

The limitations of silk do not consider its own weakness
This and music and protection and deliberation
Until the song resides outside of order
the circumference of danger is its payment
Elephant eyed politenesses chased from the scene